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The sun rising over the tops of the flat apartment buildings illuminated the hazy clouds, sluggishly moving along the horizon, and Hoseok sighed as he rested his head against the cool metal of the railing. It was really too early to be awake, but there wasn’t enough time to be able to properly sleep, which meant he was here in this limbo state, up on the top of the Big Hit building. Technically, roof access wasn’t allowed for members without another staff member (too afraid of accidents and potential-suicides) but Hoseok had managed to charm the keys from one of the production-design noonas, who had always been a little nicer to him than to anyone else.
He should nap. This he knew; their day ahead still had three schedules, one of them a music show in which he was MCing, but the call to sleep was surprisingly faint at the moment, as if hidden behind the hazy clouds ahead of him.
Hoseok turned around and slumped down against the railing, letting his eyes drift shut, and the last vestiges of the sweat chill and roll down his back, in the bitter freeze of the morning air. From ahead of him, Hoseok head the creaky roof door swing open, the sound of a muffled curse, and moderately paced steps, scuffing slightly across the stone because of bad habits. It was a familiar sound, and one that Hoseok could place immediately, if only by the slightly uneasy breathing, from someone who got easily out-of-breath from stairs.
“Joonie, you didn’t head back yet?” asked Hoseok, not opening his eyes.
“Fell asleep in the Bangtan room.” Namjoon admitted, deep voice rumbling in his throat as he dropped down next to Hoseok, long legs tangling up with the flowerpots, almost bringing him down. There was a sleepy hint to his voice, and despite Hoseok’s rather mellow mood, the corners of his mouth twitched up, in fond amusement. He turned around, before snickering at the red imprints across Namjoon’s cheeks, slowly fading, but still prominent.
“Noona is going to murder you for falling asleep on the keyboard again, remember last time?” Hoseok said, fingers pulling up to brush against Namjoon’s cheeks, gently. Namjoon jerked upwards, looking a little surprised, but leant into the touch, quickly, like a lamb starved for affection, and Hoseok snorted, before reaching upwards to ruffle Namjoon’s unravelling hairstyle completely, feeling satisfied as the hairspray dissipated among his fingers.
“Everyone’s annoyed with me, that’s nothing new.” Namjoon said, dryly, before realizing what he’d said and pulling a face. “Well. Mostly everyone. I think. I dunno. Sometimes it does seem that way–”
Hoseok reached down to pinch Namjoon’s cheek, and grinned easily as Namjoon’s speech tapered off, into sounds of painful protesting. “Were you self-reflecting again? Did something happen on twitter?” he asked, pressing a quick, sloppy kiss to Namjoon’s cheek, in a slight twinge of worry.
Namjoon’s face turned into a slightly more serious one and Hoseok mirrored it, leaning back to give Namjoon a little more room, while still pressing their thighs together. “No, not in particular. But we’re always self-reflecting as idols, Hoseok.” he said, seriously. “Everything we do and say has so many consequences and so many repercussions, and someone will be hurt if we don’t think about how carefully we say it. The devil’s in the details, and we can cultivate details in our dance and music, but it means nothing if the details of our personality, of what we say, of how we act around others, aren’t addressed.”
Hoseok hummed, softly, in acknowledgement. His limbs ached from the self-reflection in front of the mirror, constantly perfecting and improving his art-form, his dance, his rap, to become better and more useful. He understood that drive for perfection, though admittedly, it was rarely about words and action, not like it was for Namjoon. “I don’t agree.” Hoseok said, quietly, “There will be critics, people who will find a reason to be hurt by our sheer existence. You can’t be good for the whole world.” He’d learnt that the hard way, the way of not-caring, the way of selectively listening to what was good for him, and not what would make him retreat to the bathroom and cry because people thought his entire self was useless.
“Isn’t the point of our existence to try and perfect our ultimate good?” Namjoon asked, eyes distant off to the distance, “To see what we can to do reach and touch and improve the lives of the maximum amount of people possible?”
Hoseok shrugged, leaning his head against Namjoon’s shoulders. “Seokjin-hyung says the point of life is to be happy and content with yourself. Yoongi-hyung says it’s to be able to make the ones closest to you happy. I don’t know, though. Is there even a point to us being here?”
Namjoon turned to Hoseok and his gaze was dark and piercing, and Hoseok was reminded by how much Namjoon demanded from everyone. The drive and the passion and the conviction that he demanded from every Bangtan member, whether they liked it or not, whether it was their dream or not, whether they were tired or not. And he found himself lacking, in that moment, his face reflected in Namjoon’s eyes. “What do you know?” Namjoon said, gravely, voice vibrating through his chest.
Hoseok chuckled, slightly nervously. “That you’re being way too philosophical for 5am in the morning, I’m not awake yet.”
“You never went to sleep.” Namjoon grumbled, slightly exasperated grin breaking out across his face. “But seriously.”
Hoseok shrugged, and exhaled, gaze drifting upwards to the lightening blue sky. “I don’t know. Really. Tell me what you want me to say, and I’ll say it, but I don’t know. I’m just sort of drifting here.”
Namjoon linked their fingers together, slowly, and brought them up, to rest on top of their knees, and his thumb ran over the skid-burn against the back of Hoseok’s wrist, gently. Hoseok tried not to wince, the thing still throbbed from the choreo practise, where they’d been skidding along the floor for a stunt, with far too much frequency. “This isn’t the mark of someone who’s drifting. This is the mark of someone who’s driving towards an ultimate goal, an ambition. You got recruited for your hard work and the results you get from hard work.” Namjoon said, quietly. “You want something. But unless you can articulate it, understand it, you’ll always feel like you’re not striving for anything in particular.”
Hoseok stared at their intertwined hands, and let Namjoon’s thumb almost lull him into peace, before he squeezed back, lightly. “…they’re all short-term goals, Joonie.” he said, finally. “Not something worthy of a lifetime ambition, a purpose of existing.”
There was a pause, a breath of air. “Then tell me a short term goal. A short-term desire, something you’re greedy for.” Namjoon said, breathing the words into Hoseok’s hair, very gently and intimately.
Hoseok’s lips pulled up into a soft smile as he pulled back, to face Namjoon properly. “You.” he said, rather greasily, before reaching forward to press his lips to Namjoon’s. Namjoon made a noise of frustration against Hoseok’s lips, but pulled him in for a kiss anyway, the physical affection they both craved from each other only when the cameras were away and nobody else was around. Hoseok was sure that Namjoon would interrogate him later, possibly when Yoongi was also listening, so he couldn’t escape answering the question like this, but Hoseok was content enough to have gained some time to think, time to reflect.
They were always reflecting as idols.